


bottled up

by th_wryter



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: .., Ander whump, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, But ya gotta hurt them, F/M, Flashbacks to 2x3, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Miscommunication, Panic Attacks, Plot Twist, Polo is a mess, Season 2 elite, Secrets, Worried boyfriend omar, follows season 2, he's my baby, missing person, more tags to come, oops i did it again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-19 02:24:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th_wryter/pseuds/th_wryter
Summary: The fight by the pool between Ander and Polo ends differently and, unable to stop himself, Polo smashes the bottle over Ander's head.Ander centric. Multi Pov. Angsty. Might end well.





	1. P(r)olo-gue

**Author's Note:**

> First ao3 work - English isn't my first language so feedback/criticism is appreciated!

Polo breathed raggedly.

It happened again.  
Just like a few months ago he lost control and somebody died because of him. First Marina and now.. 

He took a sharp breath. 

He couldn't even bear to look at the body in front of him.  
Blood poured from a giant wound at the head. He had seen it before - but this time it disturbed him even more. How could someone lose so much blood so quickly? 

It felt like he had only smashed the heavy glass bottle over his head a moment ago.  
Polo grabbed the remaining part of the bottle tighter as he tried to calm himself. 

He couldn't.  
He couldn't move, he couldn't get up. 

He must have fallen onto his knees sometime ago, but he couldn't really remember. 

Glass shards surrounded him and the body. 

“You're a monster” echoed a familiar voice.

Polo felt himself tear up.  
It was true, he was a monster, a killer and he belonged in jail. But just a couple heartbeats ago he tried to silence these accusations - by being a monster. He proved himself wrong. Rage turned him into a murdering maniac and he hated it. But he never meant to.. kill. He was just a teen, with anxiety and apparently anger issues, too. 

Marina was an accident. Sure, okay, fine.  
An accident that cost her life and turned his best friend into a grieving mess. Not to mention Christians 'accident' and Polos worsened anxiety which had lead to more frequent panic attacks, binge drinking and unfortunately, spilling the secret, the murder, to a concerned friend. Even though he threatened to tell, he didn't. It worked out in the end.  
Carla, too, had seemed to be handling her part in the cover up well, but she surprised him when she threw into his face that she hadn't been happy ever since he came to her, with blood on his hands. 

But they were dealing with it. It sucked, and it was still going to be a mess for some time, but over time it would pass. At least that what he told himself.  
They were all in this together now. 

At the party things went downhill.  
Caye spotted Samuel's older brother, the guy innocently accused of murdering Marina and sent a text into the group chat. Guzman was furious and instructed Polo and Ander to find Nano and bring him to him. Which meant one of them was going to end up in a hospital.  
Considering Guzmans fury - things weren't looking to good for Nano.

That's when they fought.  
Polo and Ander, best friends and now unwillingly, literal partners in crime had a moral discussion. 

Except it was more like a fight. A pretty big one. 

Polo brought his gaze back to Ander's body. 

Ander had wanted to tell Guzman the truth, let him know that Nano was innocent and stop pointless violence.  
Polo couldn't allow it. They just had to find Nano before Guzman did and their chances stood pretty good.  
Unfortunately Ander didn't share that sentiment. 

“Do you really want Nanos death on your conscience? Another dead body won't make a difference, huh? I should have told Guzman and you should be in jail! You're a monster!”

Why did he have to react that animalistic to Ander's - hurtful - accusations? What was cowardly smashing the bottle over the back of his friends head going to accomplish? 

The ground beneath Polo seemed to melt. Everything was spinning fast and his body couldn't keep up. His quick breathing barely got any air to his brain. No matter how much his heart pounded he still felt numb. 

“You're a monster”

The bottle in his hand had felt heavy as he swung it. He was nothing but anger and madness in that moment. And before he could stop himself the bottle hit the back of Anders head. 

Ander. 

Fuck. 

He knew what he'd done, he could see it but it seemed like he only just realized what that meant.  
Ander, one of his best friends, was laying facedown on the stone tiles next to the pool of Guzman and Marinas old house. 

He bled. A lot. 

Polo finally managed to breathe properly and crawl over to Ander. He barely noticed the glass shards cutting through his Halloween costume. 

With shaky hands he grabbed his friend's shoulder. 

“Ander.. Fuck, please tell me you're okay.. You have to be.. I'm sorry, fuck, you're right.. I'm a monster.. H-how.. How could I do this to you?”

Polo sobbed. 

“I swear.. I swear I ..didn't fucking mean to do that.. I don't know what came over me.. I couldn't stop it, fuck! ..Ander..”

No response.

“Get it together, Polo.. fuck!”

His heartbeat accelerated even more as his mind tried to figure out what to do.  
After what felt like an eternity, Polo brought himself to place two of his fingers on Ander's neck.

“Please, please.. Fuck, just please be alive! I swear, Ander, if you wake up, I will tell Guzman myself! You won't have to lie for me anymore, I'll accept any consequences.. Just please, breathe..”, Polo whispered, more to himself than to Ander's lifeless body.

He almost broke down when he couldn't find a pulse.

Did he just murder someone.. Again?


	2. Caye

Cayetana had been surprised when Polo called her. His voice sounded small and shaky, but it held an urgency that didn't allow for many questions.

“Caye, please, I need you to bring me a first aid kit. Now. Come to the pool.”

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it and agreed. Polo immediately hung up on her. 

Caye had assumed it was about Guzman and Nano, Samuels older brother and main suspect in the investigation of Marinas death. Maybe they had run into each other after she sent that text into the Encineros group chat and someone - probably Guzman, because why else would Polo call for first aid? - had gotten hurt.

She hadn't questioned why he didn't just wait for an ambulance - considering it was Halloween it would be way quicker to provide first aid themselves. And maybe they even were already on their way. Or they hadn't called them at all, because they didn't want authorities involved - clearly Guzman wasn't legally allowed to 'smash Nanos head in' like he had announced at school.

By the time she mentally went through a couple possible scenarios she had already reached the dimly lit pool.

Soft sobs reached her ear. Guzman must be hurt bad, she worried. Even though she didn't talk to him a lot and she sort of got a feeling that he wasn't too pleased that Polo started seeing her, she didn't want to see him hurt. Lu, her best friend at Las Encinas, cared about him a lot and Caye hated seeing friends upset. 

Suddenly her attention drifted back to the pool. A tall, shadowy figure knelt on the tiles.

Close by, someone else was laying silently on the floor. Cayetana could only see the bloody back of their head in the sparingly lit night. 

Without thinking she tightened her grip on the first-aid kit and defensively held it in front of her until she recognized the shadowy figure. 

It was Polo. She subconsciously relaxed for a moment. He was a good guy, with a heart of gold, who went through a lot and she undoubtedly knew she could trust him. 

The person on the floor, however, unsettled her. Something wasn't right. 

“Caye..”, she heard Polo cry. “I couldn't call an ambulance..”

Her heart stopped for a split second. He sounded just as broken as the day she had pulled him out of the pool and she couldn't stand how clearly Polo was suffering. In that moment she knew she'd do anything to make it better. 

“..He's my best friend and I didn't even call an ambulance.. I just can't.. Caye, please, you need to help him.. Help me.”

Confused Caye walked closer towards the two.  
Why wouldn't Polo be able to call an ambulance for Guzman? 

More and more pieces of shattered glass crunched beneath her shoes with every step she got nearer to them. Eventually she was able to see Polos face, half in the dark, red and puffy from crying, his eyes locked onto the guy next to him. 

“What happened, Polo?”, she tried asking as calmly as possible. 

Polo didn't answer her at first. He just kept staring. 

Caye didn't want to look at whoever he was looking at. Given Polos emotional state it probably wasn't a very nice sight and she contemplated just leaving and sparing herself the unsettling images.  
But she couldn't. Polo needed her, he needed her protection, her help and her strength. Even if it was fake.

She put the kit on the floor and crouched down next to him, careful, in order not to rip her borrowed costume, and glanced at Polo, who was still staring intently at the guy. 

Caye almost fell onto the glass when Polo started crying out of nowhere. 

“..He's not breathing..” 

“Who.. Who's not breathing?” 

Polo only whimpered.

Caye had to look. And she'd come to regret it. 

Ander. It was Ander.  
Polo's other best friend.

He looked incredibly pale and the dark red blood flowing all over his face didn't help with that. A few messy strands of his formerly soft and curly hair stuck to his head because of his own fresh blood.  
Ander looked more dead than alive. 

His coat clad chest didn't move. Ander looked way too still to still be.. Caye didn't dare to finish her thought. 

“I didn't mean to..” Polo whispered, his voice rawer than usually. 

Now it was Cayes turn to remain silent as she tried to comprehend what Polo was saying. 

“I didn't mean to..” He quietly repeated himself, like a mantra. “It was an accident..”

After a few moments that felt like eternity, Caye asked him, “Are you sure.. that he's.. gone?”

Polo nodded frantically.

“He's dead, fuck, Caye, he's dead!”

"..so what do you want me to do..?" she asked cautiously. 

“Call the cops on me. Tell them it was me. I won't be able to do that myself..”

His tone was heavy, his eyes gloomy and Caye understood what he implied. Polo would rather kill himself than to live with what he did, whatever it might have been.

“..Polo. Please. Don't.”

When he turned to look at her, Caye unsuccessfully scanned his eyes for a hidden spark of hope. Without hesitation she took his hand and squeezed it tightly.  
His touch felt colder than usual. Like Polo had already died as well. 

She couldn't let him wither. 

“Polo, listen, I know you..”

“..no, you don't.” he shot back. “I've done unspeakable things before, but this? It's too much. I don't want to get through this. I don't deserve to.”

Caye felt like crying, but she didn't.

“listen, I may have no idea what you're talking about, but I know you! You are the most supportive and loving guy in the whole school and you may not know it, and it may even be to early for me to say this to you, but I love you!”

She squeezed his hand again.

“..I don't deserve your love..”  
Polo whispered after a while.  
He squeezed her hand back. After clearing his throat he spoke again. 

“I love you too, but I see no way out of this. I don't want to drag you down with me. Your life is rosy and fun while mine.. is a fucking shitshow and it's all my own doing. I shouldn't have called you. I thought there was still a way to save Ander. I couldn't feel his pulse at first but I called as soon as I did. And now he's dead anyways and I'll either go to prison or die with him. And honestly? I can't go to prison. Guzman will know and he is going to hate me even more than I already hate myself.”

Caye held on to his hand like it was her last straw. 

“.. Polo.. I'm so sorry about whatever happened. But you told me, you didn't mean to. I won't let you go to prison for that. Please, there is still something left for you to do. Guzman can't be on his own, he can't lose his two best friends, not now. He needs you.” 

She paused to look into his eyes. There it was.  
The glimmer she had been looking for earlier.  
Hope. Purpose. 

“.. And I need you, too.”

He smiled half heartedly. It made her feel warm inside. She knew she wouldn't regret her decision to help him. 

“Let's make sure you won't go to prison, alright?”

Polo just nodded, still not fully convinced, but ready to do as Caye told him.  
Together they successfully cleaned up the blood and got rid of the glass pieces and the half broken bottle. Caye was good at cleaning, for someone who never had to do anything like that before and Polo was glad to simply follow her instructions.  
Eventually they got everything as clean as they could, but there was still a problem to deal with. 

“What about Ander?” Polo murmured numbly. 

Caye thought for a while. 

“We have to get him out of here, hide the body. If he's not here, nobody will know to look for a crime scene - he could have ran away or something.”

Polo didn't argue. 

“Polo, do you have a car here? We won't be able to carry him away far enough..”.

“No. But I know someone who could help with that.”

He pulled his phone out, texted a number and tensed up when he received a response only moments later. 

“A car will be here in 10 minutes, no questions asked. The driver will take us wherever we want. He'll help us.”

Caye frowned a little. What kind of people was Polo in contact with?  
Plus, with every additional person who knew about this, Polos chances of getting arrested shot up. But alright. If it meant they could leave tonight behind them as soon as possible, so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news - I have the chapters planned out up til chapter 12 so far 👀
> 
> Stay tuned and thank you for your feedback!


	3. Omar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is!
> 
> there is going to be more action/actual plot in the next chapters so I'm excited to hear your thoughts!
> 
> thank u for the feedbacks and I hope you like introspection because damn that seems to be what I do haha
> 
> Anyway enjoy!

His last few months had been shitty.  
No wait, that still felt like a vast understatement. 

Over the summer Omar spent almost every single minute of his days and a fraction of his nights in his parents' shop. His dad never really let him out of sight for more than ten minutes a day and sneaking out outside of that tiny timeframe was almost impossible.  
But somehow Ander and him made it work.  
It wasn't much of a relationship though. There just wasn't a lot they could do with that limited time, even if Ander would always smirk and say that ten minutes with Omar were all he really needed.  
Omar smiled sadly.  
It felt like ages since he'd last seen that side of his boyfriend. 

He had noticed that Ander grew more and more frustrated whenever Omar declined an invitation or a date suggestion.  
It was the little things: Eyes cast down, a slight pout whenever Omar hung his head and silently mouthed ‘no’ and how Ander held on to his boyfriend's hand when he was about to leave.  
It tore Omar apart. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Ander for a while longer, wrap his arms around him and just forget about all his worries. But he couldn't.  
He also couldn't get out of his fucking home. Not that it was much of a home. He felt suffocated, he couldn't be himself and he hated it. His life was shitty and he knew it. 

But when his shitty months climaxed in a truly awful night, Ander had his back and let him live with him even though his family was going through their own problems. 

Knowing that Ander was there for him, that he loved him was the most comfort he got on some days. There was a time where Omar never would have doubted how much his boyfriend cared. 

What had changed? 

The worst thing was that he didn't know for sure.  
He had no clue what was wrong because Ander wouldn't tell him anymore.  
He couldn't stop wondering if it was something he did or something he said.  
He didn't even understand why Ander acted the way he did. He didn't tell him anything anymore. They barely saw each other, even though they shared a bed. Ander often came home late from school, slept as much as humanly possible, spent a lot of time in the shower - even more than Anders mom was used to - and went out more frequently at night with his friends. When he came back, he was way too drunk to talk and just went straight to bed.  
Omar wondered what could be going on that had Ander acting this weird. 

Did he have another guy? Someone he truly liked?  
Maybe he would have already broken up with him if Omar didn't have to rely on Ander and his mom for food and housing.  
He told him about Polo, when it apparently meant nothing, and Omar was glad he told him but now, even though he denied it, he felt a bit jealous. He saw them together a lot.  
Huh, but Ander never looked very happy around Polo.  
Maybe he was just reading into things.

Still, it hurt - almost as much as getting kicked out by his father. Ironically his boyfriend started acting weird the same night. Only a few of the moments they shared ever since they lived together actually felt good. Not that they had many moments to begin with.  
Something was going on.  
Ander's behavior at tonight's Halloween party convinced him that his boyfriend was going to be the next loved one to abandon him. 

He had been thankful that Ander had taken him in, of course, because he knew that even though Ander and his mom assured him that he didn't inconvenience them, that wasn't actually true. Omar didn't exactly have a lot of money to repay all the food they had given him so he tried to make himself useful by cleaning. It was his way of saying thanks. 

But cleaning didn't save relationships. 

Cleaning wasn't going to fix whatever Ander was up to. 

Sometimes he didn't even feel like finding out anymore. He got sick of the way he was treated, the comments, the faces and everything.  
Omar had dared to ask if living with him was too much but Ander always assured him that it didn't have to do anything with him. And it felt sincere. 

After tonight's fight, Omar wasn't so sure anymore. Their fight wasn't just about the Rocky Horror Show costumes Omar picked for them - but also about Ander not liking how Omar wanted to express himself after not being able to for so long. It hurt that Ander seemed to dislike everything he did. 

It's just a small fight, he told himself, absentmindedly fiddling with his empty drink. Ander will come around. 

After all, they came to the party together and they'd leave together and maybe they would finally get a chance to talk it all over, properly this time. 

Omar sighed.  
If only things were that easy. But they didn't have two different places to come home to and even though Ander initially seemed to try to make him feel at home, Omar never quite did. He was a guest in their house and nothing more.  
And now they were fighting, more and more frequently and he didn't exactly have anywhere else to go to right now. He didn't have a place to hide. And right now hiding from their fight sounded perfect.  
But he couldn't. If he wanted to leave this party, he'd still have to face Ander later and confront him. Omar groaned and rubbed his forehead.  
That was something he wouldn't be able to avoid anyways. 

He stood up and grabbed his coat. 

"What are you doing, sweetie?" Lu gently placed an arm on his shoulder. "Don't tell me you're already leaving!" 

Omar sighed. 

"Wait, is this about Ander?" she asked, bitterness seeping from every syllable.

After seeing his small nod she angrily continued.  
"Fuck that guy! You're too good for him. Nobody here looks as divine as us - stay and drink with me, we need it!" 

"Guzman?" 

Lu only responded by silently pouring them shots. 

Several shots and a few hours later Omar grabbed his coat again. Ander still was nowhere to be seen. 

They might have gone to the party together, but by the looks of it, they weren't going to leave together.  
Omar couldn't help but feel bitter at the realization.


	4. The morning after Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick heads-up to let you know that I have planned the entire story out - it will be finished!   
But until then we still have a lot of chapters left.   
Thank you for the reviews and kudos, they really push me to upload sooner :) 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

_There’s nothing special about November 1st._

Most teenage partygoers would spend that day lazily lying around, trying to sober up after waking up past noon with smudged traces of their Halloween makeup all over them. Some were barely able to remember how they had celebrated last night and groaned in shame when the memories came rushing back, others snuck back into their homes in the morning, covered in hickeys and the heavy next-day party stench of alcohol and smoke.

Unfortunately, Omar’s first Halloween didn’t end in that kind of November 1st.

When he woke up the bed was still as empty as it had been when Omar fell asleep.

Had his boyfriend even returned from Rebeka’s party?

Omar sat up and searched the area next to their - Ander’s - bed for his phone.

He found it on the floor, which was quite unlike him. He liked keeping things in their place, and his phone’s spot usually was on Ander’s desk.

But last night he had wanted to keep it close. He’d even unmuted it.

He hesitated for a moment -

When he pressed the button the phone’s screen lit up.

10:07 a.m.

No new messages. Not a word from Ander.

Omar frowned silently.

What reason would Ander have not to come home?

Was he mad at him? Was he still out somewhere, on the way home or with somebody else? Did something happen to him?

He shook his head and decided to check his social media profiles, hoping that his boyfriend had sent him a message via Instagram or even Facebook Messenger.

Nothing.

Well, except messages from Nadia, Rebeka and some other friends; even Lu had texted him to confirm that her brother Valerio had talked to the manager of the bar about the job and asked if he had gotten home safely.

Why couldn’t Ander just let him know where he was? Had he just forgotten? Was Ander mad at him? What if this was the beginning of their end? Or did Ander black out somewhere?

He did drink a lot yesterday. Again. Omar still had no idea why. Nothing made sense to him anymore.

Ander had been with Guzman when Omar last saw him. If he had passed out surely his best friend would have looked after him? Maybe Guzman had offered him to crash at his place? What if nobody had made sure he got home safely?

Omar’s head was spinning.

Thousands of thoughts flooded his mind. He couldn't think straight anymore, so he focused on his breathing instead.

Worrying wasn’t going to help. He was probably just overreacting. But still, the thought of Ander, passed out in some shady alley wouldn’t leave his mind. He had to take action, had to make sure that Ander was okay and that they were okay. And if Ander was okay, boy, was he going to get to a piece of Omar’s mind. He was still mad about yesterday’s fight and being ditched at Halloween.

Omar decided to get dressed. Once he was wearing some comfy sweatpants and a sweater, he went downstairs. Ander might have decided to sleep on the couch.

Azucena, Ander’s mom, was already up and making breakfast. Upbeat melodies were quietly playing in the background. The food smelled delicious and for a moment Omar felt a pang of jealousy in his chest but he didn't acknowledge it any further. Now was not the time to focus on his issues.

His gaze wandered across the room and eventually got stuck on the hardwood kitchen table.

It was beautifully set for three people.

Three coasters.

Three coffee mugs.

Three plates.

Omar exhaled audibly as relief washed over him. Ander must be home, he thought. Azucena rarely set the table before she wasn’t done preparing breakfast. It had to have been him.

Azucena must have heard him even over the sizzling noises coming from various pans in front of her because she turned around and flashed a bright smile at him.

“Good morning, dear!”

Omar smiled back at her. “Morning.”

“Did you have fun at the party?”

Deciding not to unwrap all the drama over their costumes, Omar simply nodded, feigning enthusiasm.

“Is Ander already up? Breakfast is almost ready. ”

Omar froze.

“He’s not downstairs?” He quietly asked after a few heartbeats.

Confusion was written all over Azucena’s face. “No.. I haven’t seen him yet. Is something wrong?”

“I hope not..” Omar whispered. “We got into a stupid fight yesterday and when I wanted to leave, Ander was already gone. Maybe he went with his friends. I don’t know. He didn’t text me..”

He avoided looking at her. Instead he kept staring at the food Ander’s mom had been preparing and the table, still set for three.

If Azucena was worried about her son she didn’t show it. Instead she gave Omar a small, but reassuring smile. When he looked again, her smile seemed a lot sadder.

“I’m sure Ander’s with Guzmán or Polo, but I’ll have to have a serious conversation with him. He used to pull stunts like this all the time when they were younger. We were worried sick about him.” Azucena sighed. “I was afraid that he might start disappearing and isolating himself again when his father and I told him about the divorce. He’s been so distant lately.. I’m afraid he might think it’s his fault.”

That was news to Omar. Ander had told him about the divorce, sure, and he had included some painful details but never, not once, had he mentioned anything like that.

Maybe Azucena was wrong. But what if she wasn't? She was his mother after all. Could the divorce really be the reason Ander had been acting so weird?

It didn't seem right. He couldn't pinpoint what bothered him about it though, so he just nodded along silently and mimicked Azucenas reassuring smile from earlier.

Nobody said anything.

Azucena could see the wheels turning inside Omar’s head.

He looked so young, so small, so worried. The boy was just a child.

“I’m sorry for unloading that on you, Omar, I’m sure you have enough to worry about.”

“No, don't worry about it. Listening is the least I can do.” He gestured around him. "I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me."

“Of course, Omar. I don’t want to drag you into this mess of a divorce though - it’s bad enough that Ander is involved.”

“Is there any other way I can help?”

Azucena gave his question a quick thought before nodding.

“Yes, actually, it’d be great if, after breakfast, you could ask Guzmán and Polo if Ander is with either of them. Or maybe you'd be able to reach Ander. If we haven’t heard from him after that, I’ll check with Rebeka’s mother and some of his other friends.”

Omar smiled. “Sure, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, dear.”

By the time he finished his coffee, Azucena had already left. So, Omar went back upstairs.

The bed was still cold and empty.

He dialed Ander’s number first.

It rang a few times but nobody picked up.

Omar tried again.

And again it rang and rang but nobody answered.

He wanted to throw his damn phone across the room.

After taking a deep breath, Omar tried again.

No surprise, no answer.

So he wrote a text. Or he tried to.

It took him forever because he kept rewriting it. With every passing second he grew more impatient, so he decided to just send his first attempt.

“Where are you?“

Short and simple.

No emojis, no explanations. They could still talk things out when Ander was home.

He fought the urge to send another text. It felt too clingy. 

If Ander was at a friend's place, because he wanted to get away from Omar, being clingy wasn't the solution.

It was time to text Guzmán.

Across town Guzmán’s phone beeped.


	5. Guzman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one is up - were finally getting closer to the chapters I've been looking forward to!
> 
> Anyways hope you enjoy and I bet you can guess who the next chapter will be about! 
> 
> Thanks for your sweet reviews, they always motivate me to stay on schedule even with uni :)

_“Is Ander with you?” _

Guzmán frowned and read the text again.

Ander wasn’t staying with him and judging by the message he just got from Omar, he wasn’t at home either.

That was odd.

_“No, sorry. I can ask Polo though.”_

He hadn't seen Ander since they shared a joint at the Halloween party. His friend hadn't been in a great mood, which, unfortunately, wasn't news.

Guzman sighed. He still had no clue what was up with the guy. Something was bothering him, but in true Ander-fashion he kept everything to himself.

It hurt to watch.

When Ander had started complaining to him about Omar and the costumes he had picked, Guzman didn't think too much of it. He was just happy that they got to spend time together without Ander running away or looking like he'd rather be swallowed by the ground.

His fight with Omar didn't sound like the end of the world to Guzmán, but - to be frank - his mind had been somewhere else that night.

After all, he had just broken up with Lu half an hour ago. He never thought he'd ever actually go through with it, especially not after she saved his life. They hadn't been happy in a long time though and he didn't regret breaking up with her; he simply couldn’t wait to tell Nadia. No more obstacles.

_Ha, good one. _

When he stopped by the shop, grinning from ear to ear, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Nadia would say no. And yet she did.

She cried as she shut the door in his face but she was too stubborn to change her mind.

Her reaction broke him.

As soon as the lights went out, he rested his head against the cold glass.

His eyes scanned the shop for traces of her until he lost the last glimpse of hope and sighed in frustration.

Guzman almost wanted to laugh. Of course he wasn’t allowed to be happy.

_What had he been thinking? _

His phone's bright, cheery sound pulled him from his thoughts and brought him back to reality.

Cayetana, the new girl Polo had added to the group chat, texted them to let them know that she spotted Nano, the goddamn guy who had murdered his sister in cold blood, at the party.

Something inside him snapped.

He had warned that piece of shit to stay away. But Nano came anyways.

Guzman could practically see that fucking murderer's smug face in front of him.

Oh, what he wouldn't do to make him pay.

‘Fine', Guzmán grimly thought. Nano would finally get what he deserved. The police might have let Marina down but he refused to let his little sister's killer walk around freely, just roaming any Halloween party he pleased.

He took a few steps back from the store, pushing Nadia into the back of his head.

His phone's soft blue light shone onto his face, highlighting his stone cold expression and throwing long dark shadows under his eyes.Any passerby would have avoided him. Guzman didn't care about them though.

He still had that text in front of him and he needed to act, to make sure Nano would still be at the party. And who better to help him than his best friends?

He didn't think twice and began recording a voice message.

“Find that son of a bitch and hold him at the party until I get there! I am going to smash his fucking head in! Don’t let him leave, **don’t let him fucking leave!**”

His voice was calm and calculated when he started talking but by the end of the message he practically screamed.

Then, a cold smile crept onto his face and Guzman spun around, making his way back to the party.

He hadn’t seen Ander or Polo after that. He hadn't even heard from them.

When he finally arrived, Samuel was already beating the shit out of Nano.

Carla stood next to them, a look of terror on her face as she plead with Samuel to stop. He didn’t. Not right away, anyways.

Guzmán didn’t intervene either.

He just watched, a bit confused but content.

Seems like Samuel had finally accepted that his brother was responsible for Marina's death.

A few more people came to watch and eventually Samuel and Nano left. Not together of course.

Guzmán watched his classmate talk to Carla for a bit after Nano had taken off.

The waiter - no wait, pizza delivery guy - briefly put his arm on her shoulder in a comforting manner and then, without looking back, went home.

Samuel might be able to escape the stares - the rumours, however, would follow him to school.

In short, Guzmán had been devilishly happy with the way Halloween ended.

But now an unpleasant thought crossed his mind.

_What if Ander had run into an angry Nano? _

It was possible.

They were best friends and Guzmán had told Ander and Polo to make sure Nano didn't leave. But when he arrived, Nano was already out on the street.

Maybe they ran into him and weren’t able to hold him down?

No, that sounded stupid. Ander and Polo could hold themselves up in a fight.

Guzman looked down and bit his fingernails.

That’s what he had thought when they had gone to beat up Nano and Christian a few months back - when Guzmán had discovered who had impregnated his sister.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

That day they had split up and Ander had to take the fall. He had been beaten up badly by some of Nano’s friends.

Drug dealers.

Gang members.

Criminals.

If Ander had been able to describe the fuckers who did this to him, Guzmán would have gladly polished their faces. But he couldn't and so they had to let it go.

Who knew, maybe the same thing happened again? Ander and Polo could have split up to look for Nano. Maybe Ander found him.

Guzman stopped himself.

Ever since Marina died at the graduation party he always saw the worst happening in front of his inner eye.

But, as much as he hated Nano, he didn't seriously think he would have seriously hurt Ander in the small time frame it took Guzman to get to the party. Plus, there hadn't been any blood on him, except his own. And there had been plenty of people at the party, so really, what could have happened without anyone noticing?

His suspicion was based on nothing.

Nano had been at the party and Ander hadn't gotten home yet.

So what.

Ander wasn't hurt.

He couldn't be.

He probably wandered off somewhere all moody again.

It was, of course, also possible that Ander and Polo had spent the night together. They had said that it was a one time thing, but if Ander had been frustrated enough after his fight with Omar it didn’t seem too farfetched to him.

There was no way that Polo would have said no to Ander, not while he was wearing that tiny little golden tanga he hated so much.

Guzmán decided to call Ander before doing anything else.

Voicemail.

Guzman rolled his eyes and tried Polo.

Voicemail.

_Huh. _

Maybe he'd drop by Polo's house later.


	6. sunday afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dudes, it's here.  
and it's longer than the other chapters. 
> 
> I don't love it but it's not getting any better and I really want to move on with the plot - but let me know if you liked this chapter!
> 
> We still have a lot of chapters to go so stay tuned! :) 
> 
> Thanks for your reviews, I always appreciate them a lot!

His phone rang. 

Once. 

Twice. 

He didn’t feel like picking up. 

For all he knew that could be the police. 

Or worse, someone asking about Ander. 

He couldn’t deal with it. Not now and probably not ever. 

Polo's hand slowly made his way over to his phone to silence it. 

He wrapped himself back up into his blanket. It was soft and heavy and kind of comforting. 

Not enough though.

He couldn't hide from what he'd done, he couldn't undo it. Soon he'd have to face the consequences. Lie to everyone's faces or confess. Both options sounded terrible to Polo. 

He pulled the sheets over his head and remained like that without moving for a while. Everything felt so heavy and pointless. 

Polo stared ahead into the dark, barely blinking as tears started to form in his eyes. 

  
  


_ No, no, no!  _

_ You don't get to cry about Ander.  _

_ It's your fault he's gone. _

_ Push it down.  _

_ You're not allowed to feel sorry for yourself.  _

_ That's not going to bring him back.  _

_ Fucking hell, he was your friend!  _

_ And now he's dead.  _

_ How could you?  _

  
  


Polo had no clue how long he'd been hiding underneath his blanket lost in his thoughts when he felt tiny needle-like stabs in his chest. The pain was excruciating. His heart began to pound like his life depended on it; It felt like it wanted to beat its way out of his chest. 

Polo's breathing became both heavier and more rapid with every passing second. 

He pressed his eyes shut. 

The feeling was all to familiar but it still terrified him. Once more he was panicking. 

Polo pulled his blanket closer, hugging the soft fabric in an attempt to calm down. 

It helped, a bit at least. 

His head was still hurting and he felt like he could pass out from exhaustion. It was still too hard to concentrate, too hard to think of the next step, too hard to relax.

Next to him, Caye started shifting around softly. 

Polo must have woken her up. Although it was a mystery to him how she could have slept after what happened yesterday. 

He exhaled audibly and tried to release the tension in his shoulders. 

Polo let go of the blanket and pulled the covers away from his head. Maybe if he'd be able to breathe a little better he could calm down. 

With a few uninspired movements Polo propped himself up against his bed's headboard and looked around him. 

On the nightstand sat a bright orange bottle of his anxiety medication. He immediately scrambled to grab it, twist it open and shake a couple of pills into one of his hands. Without hesitation he popped them all into his mouth at once and exhaled in relief. 

After a while he put the rest of the pills back and leaned back against the headboard, his eyes gazing over Caye's rhythmically moving body. 

She looked so soft and peaceful. Her blonde curls gently framed her beautiful face and her expression looked peaceful. Eyes closed, a tiny smile on her pink lips. A lonely ray of sunshine made its way through the dark curtains of Polo's room and quietly shone all over her. 

He couldn’t believe she was still sleeping, even sleeping at all to begin with. 

How could she be so calm after last night?

He still didn’t quite understand why she hadn’t called the police on him, like he initially wanted to. 

Polo was glad she was here though. 

Without her, who knows what stupid shit he might have done after last night. Might have done again. 

Caye saved him twice now. 

As he looked at her pretty face again, Polo knew he couldn't help but love her. 

It scared him. He barely even knew her, they only went to one party together and he already dragged her into a murder. He barely recognized himself anymore. 

What if he lost control again? What if he hurt her too _ ? _

The thought alone made him feel disgusted with himself. 

But experience had taught him that hiding a murder together strained relationships and he was convinced the same thing was going to happen with Caye. They were going to fight, like Carla and Christian, like Polo and Carla, like Polo and Ander and like Carla and her father. 

And maybe she was going to resent him for asking her for help, just like Ander had. And they would fight and Polo would lose control, again.

He couldn’t let that happen to her. 

He couldn’t kill again. He'd go insane. 

And if she hadn’t been by his side last night, he would have lost it already. 

How was he ever going to get over last night? 

  
  


Next to him his phone vibrated again. Polo barely registered it.

He hadn’t slept all night. 

He hadn’t slept much the nights before either - the blood on his hands, the guilt in the back of his head and his spiraling, anxious thoughts usually kept him awake until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Last night was worse.    
So much worse than the night he had bashed Marina’s head in. At least back then he could still tell himself that it had been an accident. That he didn’t mean to.

But now? 

With two dead bodies on his conscience? 

He’d love to believe that he wasn’t a monster. 

But it just wasn’t true. 

A truly unsettling part of him that took control in those fatal moments had wanted it. 

It wanted to see them fall, crash, bleed. It was satisfied by the disgusting noise the impact had made on his victims’ heads. It cheered when the stench of fresh blood crawled up his nose and made him want to puke his guts out. 

The worst part was that it was all him. 

The aggression, the rage, the impulsiveness. 

Only for a split second had he wanted to hurt Marina but it was enough to kill her. 

He didn't want that to happen. 

He didn't want her to die. He didn't want her gone. 

_ But she was. _

  
  
  


Only for a split second had he wanted to hurt Ander. 

But not that much. He just wanted him to shut up. 

He didn't want him to die. He didn't want him gone. 

_ But he was. _

  
  


He wanted to cry, wanted to yell, anything to get some pressure of his chest. Just for a few seconds. Just long enough so that he could breathe again. 

Polo would do anything to change the past. 

To go back in time. But he couldn't. And he couldn't do much about his future either. 

Carla had decided to cover Marina's murder up and Polo had wanted to pull through, no matter what it'd cost. 

He wasn't so sure about that anymore. 

He loved Ander like a brother. And maybe a bit more, but only really once. 

They had been best friends since kindergarten and now Ander was dead because of him. Polo had known Ander's parents almost as long and they had always treated him like one of their own. They were going to be heartbroken because of him, and Polo would have to watch them shatter just like Guzman's parents. 

How was he ever going to forgive himself? 

How could he possibly keep this charade up? 

There was no getting back to the good old times now. It was never going to be Guzman, Ander and Polo ever again. 

It didn't matter that Caye wanted to be with him. She shouldn't be, because he was only a shell of his former self. 

He worried constantly. He barely slept. He had to be calculating, manipulative and cautious. 

Looking at the state of Guzman and knowing it was his doing hurt like hell. 

Carla and Christian hated him. And Caye would too, just like Ander. 

And if he was the monster Polo thought he was she'd end up just like Ander and Marina.. and Polo would have nobody left except his own darkness. 

  
  


The phone vibrated again and pulled him from his thoughts. 

Reality sucked but his mind was an even worse place to be in. 

For a while he just watched his phone vibrate back and forth, the screen facing the table. 

He didn't want to answer. Didn't want to pretend everything was okay. 

But if he didn't - everyone would know that it wasn't and soon enough they'd figure out why. He kinda had to. 

Polo groaned internally. 

Somehow he managed to pull himself together long enough to pick the phone up and see that it was Guzman calling. There was even a silly picture of his friend displayed and fuck - that stung. 

He couldn't possibly talk to him right now. 

Guzman would hear that he was upset and he'd get worried. And once he knew that Ander was gone he'd be suspicious. Maybe he even already knew.

So what if he didn't pick up. 

He could say he missed the call because he'd still been asleep. 

He gave it some thought, then shut his phone off, put it away and hid beneath the covers again, trying to ignore whatever he was feeling. 

Whatever Guzman wanted, he couldn't deal with it right now. He just couldn't. 

He couldn't exactly deal with himself right now either. 

Polo wanted to cry again. Only this time he felt a hand on his shoulder. It gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

A soft voice spoke. 

"It's going to be okay, Polo." 

A pause. Two more gentle squeezes, then she spoke again. 

"I love you. Please don't forget that."

Polo stopped breathing for a second. 

He sat up and looked at Caye. 

"Why are you saying it like that? It sounds like you're leaving." 

Caye's soft and deep eyes met Polo's sad and lost eyes.

"I am. But not forever, I expect to see you in school on Monday. I need you there with me, alright? And if you can't go, trust that I will be here for you. Just let me know how you're doing." 

She smiled at him weakly and softly added "It wasn't your fault."

Polo didn't respond. 

Instead he quietly put his head on her shoulder. 

"Thank you.", he murmured after a while. "It's all so hard and I hate that I dragged you into this. I'm sorry.. I hate myself for it. But without you.. I.. don't know.. so, thank you.. for saving me, again. I won't ever forget what you did for me and I hope I can repay you some day."

He felt her tense up. 

Polo sat up and looked at her. 

Tension hung heavy in the air between them. 

Caye coughed and rubbed her neck. 

"I chose to help you and maybe it's stupid but I don't think so. I can ..feel that you're a good guy. Accidents happen. Even horrible ones."

Polo looked down and stayed silent. 

A few moments later she put her fingers under his chin and gently began lifting his face upwards. 

His eyes, still dark and heavy widened with wonder as Caye pressed a soft kiss on his lips. 

Caye blushed as they slowly pulled apart. 

"I have to go home now. I need to help my mom with something today and I'd love to stay.. But I will see you on Monday, promised?" 

Polo nodded hesitantly. 

"No, come on, I need you to say it!"

He gave her a faint smile and promised. 

With a smile on her lips Caye left. 

As soon as she was out of sight her smile fell.

  
  
  


Polo had only had five minutes of quiet in his bed when someone knocked on his door. 

Fuck. 

He tried to mask the mess he was as quickly as possible. 

"Yea?" 

The door opened and Guzman poked his head in. 

"Morning, Polito!" 

His cheery voice made Polo sad. 

"..oh, hey, man. What are you doing here?" 

Guzman looked at him in bewilderment. 

"It's almost 4 pm. I called you a couple of times but you didn't pick up so I thought I'd check on you."

"uhh, thanks, buddy. Everything's okay here, but ..my phone died and I am still pretty hungover from yesterday.."

Guzman mustered him. 

"yea, man, you look bad. When did you get home?" 

He had to give a good answer. He had to stick to the alibi they had worked out last night. He needed time.

"Thanks for that." he began dryly. 

Guzman chuckled lightly but still shot him a look of worry. 

"I've been out until 5 or 6 am.. I went to some afterparty nearby and then I took Caye home with me. I guess you could say it's been a long night."

His friend smiled at him approvingly. 

"Good to see you having fun, pal. I won't bother you much longer, I just wanted to check in on you, I was kind of worried when you didn't respond. I thought you might have run into that shithead Nano."

Polo swallowed and tried not to stutter. 

"N-no. No, I didn't, but thanks, I guess."

Guzman continued. "I'm actually kind of here because of Omar, too. He texted me because Ander didn't come home last night. Apparently they had a fight so I guess he thought Ander might have  _ been _ with you again.. you know?"

While Guzman talked, Polo did his best to seem shocked. 

"They had a fight? Huh, I didn't know." 

Which was true. 

"And no,.. that was a one time thing, Guzman. I have no clue where he is. I think I last saw him around the time we got your text.. Do you think something happened to Ander?" 

It felt so wrong. It felt so damn wrong to lie like that. Knowing what he did. 

But Polo still tried to lie .

Guzman gave him a weird look. 

"You mentioned Nano. Do you think..?" Polo trailed off, purposely trying to  _ inspire _ Guzman's suspicions. 

  
  


"I don't know. Where else could he be?" 

Polo gave it a thought. Or at least made Guzman think he did. 

He really needed some air.

"Maybe somewhere with a hookup?" he suggested. 

  
  


Guzman seemed to consider it for a moment. "I don't think so, to be honest, but maybe. Anyways, I'll let Omar know that he didn't sleep at your place."

  
  


"Keep me updated, okay?" Polo said, trying to seem as unknowing and concerned as possible. 

"Sure, man. Sleep your buzz off, you look like you need some rest. I'll see you at school."

  
  


Guzman gave him a pat on the back and one more concerned look before finally leaving. 

As soon as he left, Polo fell back onto his bed and pulled the covers over his face again. 

_What a nightmare._


	7. trees, dirt, leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Now the fun can start.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I've been excited to share this, also keeps me motivated! :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Everything hurt. 

Most of all his head. It felt like someone had set him on fire; the pain was hot, spotty and blinding. The pain made it almost unbearingly hard to form a coherent thought. 

He vaguely noticed that his eyes were pressed shut. 

Although he instinctively wanted to open them, look around and find out where he was and what hurt so fucking bad, another part of him didn't really want to open them - the darkness was soothing and his eyelids felt heavier than ever. 

The ground he was lying on was frosty and uncomfortable. He unconsciously pulled his legs closer to his chest, in a weak attempt at keeping himself warm. If he'd keep his eyes shut and let himself drift off into a deep, mindless slumber, the cold might even be almost bearable. 

It was tempting.

His body ached. The cold crept slowly through his coat and made him shiver. 

Wherever his skin was exposed to the harsh air, it reddened and started to feel numb. 

If sleep could make that go away, why keep fighting? 

He really wanted to give in. 

He’d kill to hurt just a little less. 

_ No pain.  _

_ Just sleep.  _

He started to doze off. 

  
  
  


_ "Five more minutes."  _ he suddenly heard someone mumble. 

** _"The alarm hasn't even gone off, we have time." _ **

The voices sounded familiar but he couldn't place them. Even the conversation felt familiar, like it had been had before.

_ "I'm just used to saying that, I guess."  _

The other voice chuckled. 

_ "Why don’t we use our time for something a little more fun?" _

** _"Are you saying what I think you are?" _ **

_ "Yea..I barely got to see you last week. I miss you." _

** _"I know.. I'm sorry it has to be this hard.. I’m sure you have better things to do than spend your summer in my parents’ dusty store."_ **

_ "Don't be. I told you, I'd rather have ten minutes with you than none at all, even if that’s what it takes." _

The other person sighed.

** _"Some days you're the only thing that keeps me going.”_ **

Silence.

Then, the first voice spoke again, this time more softly.

_ “God, you’re so cute when you get all sappy.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  


He couldn't give in. He couldn't sleep. 

He had to move. Had to get up. Get warm. 

But first he'd have to open his eyes. 

He was too tired. But he had to fight that urge, even if he didn't really know why. It felt important. He had to keep going. 

After struggling for a while, he finally managed to whip his eyes open. 

At first he wasn't able to see anything but shadows and outlines. Daylight flooded his senses and his head started to pound like crazy. In a futile attempt to lessen the pain, he pressed his eyes shut. 

It barely helped. 

He brought his hand up to his head, instinctively wanting to rub his temples to soothe the goddamn pain.

That's when he felt something sticky. 

Against his will he opened his eyes again and stared straight ahead until the shapes stopped melting together and started making sense. 

There was blood all over his arm. All over his coat. 

And dirt. 

Trees everywhere, tall, dark and intimidating. 

_ Where the hell was he?  _

  
  


His hand was shaking as he brought it up again and started to examine himself.

A bandage was wrapped around his head. 

It was soggy and gross and he had to assume that it was soaked in blood. His blood. 

_ This isn't happening. It can't be.  _

_ What the fuck is going on?  _

He tried to get up. His whole body shook with exhaustion and he collapsed back onto the ground before he even managed to lift himself up into a sitting position. 

He wanted to call for help, but his throat was dry and scratchy. He couldn’t do much but whisper.

_ When was the last time he had something to drink?  _

His head hurt too much for focused thoughts. It didn't make a difference right now. 

Instead he absent-mindedly watched his breath form little white clouds in front of him and let his eyes wander. 

_ Trees. _

_ Trees.  _

_ Trees.  _

_ Trees.  _

_ Leaves.  _

_ Leaves.  _

_ Leaves.  _

_ Leaves.  _

_ Dirt.  _

_ Dirt.  _

_ Phone.  _

_ Dirt.  _

  
  


_Wait._ _How hadn't he thought of that earlier? _

He crawled across the dirty forest ground, trying to get close enough in order to be able to reach for it. When his hand touched the phone case,  _ his _ phone case, he couldn't help but smile. He was going to get help. Someone was going to find him. 

No more pain. No more cold. 

Just home.

  
  


Excited he held his phone closer to his face and pressed his bloodied finger against the fingerprint scanner. 

The screen lit up. It was cracked but that wasn't the end of the world. 

_ 11:14 _

He had gotten notifications for a few missed calls, several unread messages and a pop-up that said  _ 'Fingerprint unrecognizable. Try again.'.  _

He frantically rubbed the blood off. 

After his third attempt, it finally worked. 

His phone was unlocked and he was one step closer to getting home. 

He tapped the screen. 

Nothing happened. 

He waited.

Tried again, using more force this time. 

Nothing happened. 

_ Fuck.  _

Tears of exasperation stood in his eyes as he had to shove his unresponsive phone back into one of his coat's pockets. 

He couldn't dial an emergency number without his touchscreen. 

He couldn't get help. Couldn't find out where he was. Where to go. 

Looked like he was going to die here, wherever the fuck that was. 

He bit back the urge to cry and quickly stood up, fighting to ignore the dizziness that immediately washed over him. 

He supported himself against a tree and took a minute to catch his breath. 

When he felt somewhat rested, he tried to orientate himself in the woods surrounding him. 

He had to find a road, a path; anything, really. 

He needed to get help or he'd bleed out. 

Or die from dehydration. Or the cold. 

His life depended on him choosing to walk into the right direction. 

He looked around one more time but nothing set the trees apart. There seemed to be a small hill, or something like that a few hundred meters to his left, though. If he was lucky, he'd be able to get a better look and recognize something from up there. 

Once he had made his decision, he never looked back and moved as fast as his hurting body would let him. 

Every now and then he had to take a break, sit down and collect his breath. 

It was hard not to close his eyes. 

He had to keep them open. 

Had to focus on that hill. 

Had to keep going. 

  
  


And he did. 

When he reached the top after who-knows-how-long, his legs felt wobbly and he was out of breath but he still couldn't believe his luck. 

He had found a fucking road. 

It was a single-lane curve, coming down from an even steeper hill. It was plastered with countless potholes but it would do. 

He didn't know where it led but someone had to pass by eventually and help him. 

And so, without wasting any more precious time, he followed the road downwards. 

  
  


It felt like he'd already been walking for hours when he started to feel a bit lightheaded. 

Nonetheless, he kept walking.

He hadn't come across anyone yet but it was starting to get brighter and brighter outside - maybe he’d run into someone driving to work.

He had to keep believing. Keep walking. Step by step. 

Even if it seemed to get harder with every passing second.

  
  


Suddenly the world seemed to spin and blur. His ears were ringing and his knees grew wobbly.

Without a warning he collapsed. As his body hit the street, deafening silence wrapped itself around him . 

Then everything went black.


End file.
